


Armageddon

by Aladayle



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Bruce is in Arkham, Joker Tears, if this has been done before I'm sorry, twist - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 14:57:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11061387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aladayle/pseuds/Aladayle
Summary: Bruce Wayne finds himself in Arkham, although why this is, he has no idea. The doctors don't believe him. He's under lock and key in the mostly heavily secured room they have.Why?





	Armageddon

* * *

The fluorescent light flickered on overhead. 

Bruce shifted in the shackles. "Doctor, I still don't see why all this is necessary." 

The doctor sat quietly for a moment, giving him a concerned look, and glancing now and then at his clipboard. He'd put a hand mirror on the table before sitting down and seemed to be eyeing it anxiously. "We want to talk about your accident." 

"We've talked about that many times," Bruce said, "And why you want me to talk about it again, I have no idea." 

"You know how it is," the doctor answered, "There are details that we have yet to figure out." 

"Right." Details. He was a detail-oriented man. This would be easy. 

"Tell me again, one more time. Starting with the most recent incident." 

"The Joker was planning to gas the city during the...the Founder's Day parade," Bruce said, "I broke into the warehouse just as they were getting all of it loaded into the parade floats." 

"And how did the floats get there?" 

"He'd stolen them!" Bruce answered, "Somehow or the other, he'd found a way to do it. If I could just figure out how he makes these contacts, I could get this to stop his 'fun,' as he called it, once and for all." 

"There will always be people who will cooperate with a mad soul like that," the doctor answered. "And what do you remember about the Joker's capture?" 

"I subdued him," Bruce replied, "It wasn't a very long fight. But afterwards, I left him tied to one of the large bits of shelving." 

"And what about the Joker's men?" 

"I got to them after he'd been taken care of." 

"I see." There was some noting done on the doctor's clipboard. Then he looked up. "And the incident before that?" 

"Black Mask." He paused to think. "He sent three assassins." 

"And what happened with these three assassins?" 

"They all cornered me at once," Bruce replied, "There was a struggle, and I was without...well, I had nothing but my fists handy. They had me flat on my back in no time." 

"How did you survive?" 

"I'm not sure. They took my...mask off, and..." 

"And what?" 

"And they left." 

"They came back, though, didn't they?" 

"Yes," he nodded, "That time, though, I was ready for them." 

More noting on the clipboard. 

"Now let's go over the accident that happened before both of these events," the doctor said, "And I want you to be as thorough as possible." 

"The one with Two-Face and that giant coin the size of a car." And twice as heavy, he thought. 

"Do you know where he got it?" 

"No," Bruce replied, "When I arrived, it had been set up in...well, I don't quite remember where, but it was high overhead. The Joker's men were milling around; I was operating under the assumption that he and Two-Face had made some sort of a deal." 

"Unwise, but not unheard of," the doctor said. 

"I managed to take care of most of the thugs running about--from both sides--and was heading for Two-Face when there was an explosion overhead." 

"Do you know what caused it?" 

"The Joker. Who else? I suspect it was his first step in the line of ways to betray Two-Face." 

"How did you notice that it was him? The Joker, I mean." 

"I don't quite remember," Bruce shook his head. "I remember looking down, and seeing explosives at one point, but..." 

"And you didn't disarm them?" 

"It's...it's all a blur," he replied. His head was aching just at the thought of it. 

"Alright. I won't tax you with more about that. But go on." 

"I got to Two-Face just after the explosion went off." 

"And?" 

"The coin...the coin fell on me; I fractured my hip, but suffered nothing else. Two-Face saw his opportunity and..." 

"And what, Bruce?" 

"And shot me." 

Bruce looked, stunned, at the table. He hadn't remembered the shooting until that moment. 

"What happened next?" 

The next words were slow. "I was bleeding. The Joker appeared..." 

The doctor looked up. "Did he leave you where you were?" 

Bruce shook his head. "No. He was giggling. 'Gotten yourself in a pickle, haven't you, Bats?' he said, 'Good thing I'm here to help you.'" 

"He pulled you out?" 

"...it was hard, with all the blood, but yes. He pulled me out." 

"And what about Two-Face and the others?" 

"I don't know. I don't know where they were." 

"But surely they must've been somew--" 

"I don't know!" 

"Alright. Alright." The doctor sighed. Two-Face had been found dead at the scene and there had been no mention of that yet. 

He wasn't sure that there would be. 

"What did the Joker do next?" 

"He took my mask off." Bruce looked away. 

"But you allowed it." 

"No. I had no choice but to--I was at his mercy." 

"Look at me." There was a quick motion. "I want you to take a deep breath." 

Bruce obeyed. 

"Now, this is very important." The doctor spoke slowly and clearly. "I want you to think very hard. What happened next? Do you remember anything about Two-Face?" 

Silence. 

"Anything?" 

"Everything went...black..." Bruce said, absently. "I must have passed out." 

"While the Joker was looking down at you?" 

"He was..." A shake of the head. "He was holding me, if you can believe that." 

"I can believe it." 

"One second he was holding me, and the next...and the next..." 

"The next, what?" 

"I woke up at home." 

"How long were you at home?" 

"Several days," Bruce said, "Alfred seemed to be keeping a closer eye on me than usual, but considering I'd nearly died, it seemed rational." 

"Did you lose any time?" 

"Here and there." 

"And that didn't worry you?" 

"Of course it did!" 

No justification. No reason. Not even so much as a flimsy excuse. 

"I've told you everything, doctor. Please--let me out of here. The Joker could strike again at any moment. With me locked away like this, there's no telling what he'll do!" 

The doctor didn't respond. He simply kept writing notes on his clipboard. 

"Doctor, what do I have to do to convince you?" 

Wordlessly, the doctor gave him the hand mirror that rested on the table. 

"What do you see?" 

"Doctor, is this a joke? I see myself. My face." 

More writing. 

"It's just that there's something else that's been bothering me about this case," the doctor said, pushing Bruce's hand back when the mirror was offered, "Do you know what it is?" 

"No. I don't." 

"They found Two-Face's body there at the scene." 

"Maybe the Joker--" 

"And another body." 

"Did I hit one of the thugs too hard? Is that it? Is that why I've been locked up?!" 

"It wasn't the body of a thug. Or the Joker, or anyone else who you remember as being there afterwards." 

Bruce looked in the mirror again. His hair was-- 

There was a crack. 

"It was Batman's body. The body of Bruce Wayne." 

"But--" 

_Crack_

"But _I'm_ Bruce Wayne! Batman!" 

The mirror continued to crack; lines appeared with every errant word. 

"Bruce Wayne died of his wounds. By the time the paramedics arrived, he'd bled out." 

"No." 

It was a tiny sound. Scared and desperate. 

"No. He didn't. I'm here." 

"He? I?" 

The face in the mirror was no longer his own. 

The face was the face of the Joker. 

"No. I'm still here. I'm--I never left. I--I can't be gone." 

"Why not?" 

"Because...I..." 

The mirror clattered to the floor. 

It was lying. 

It _had_ to be! 

"...because...I need him..." 

Down the white face a few tears fell. 

The doctor sat in silence. 

"I need him..." the tears sped up and trailed down in an ever-increasing stream. 

The doctor rose from his seat, watching the other man carefully. There was no response. No knife was pulled. There wasn't so much as a look in his direction. 

"He won't abandon me. Not now...not...not...now..." 

As the doctor headed for the door, he shook his head. 

The cure had, perhaps, not been such a good idea. 

But if his hypothesis was correct, this would solve many of Gotham's problems. The loss of an utterly broken, deranged criminal would be welcomed. There might be some teething troubles, considering, but...it would be good for the city. 

* * *

*One Month Later* 

"He hasn't moved in all this time?" 

"No. After his emotional episode he just...gave up. We got some knives off him when he first broke down, but there's been no more since. All the fight's gone out of him." 

There was a glance over the pale skin, the dead eyes, the broken posture. 

He really was gone. 

"Well...keep an eye on him, just in case." 

"Will do, sir."


End file.
